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The moment Hermione hit the cold floor of the Hospital Wing, her mind went blank. She had no idea how to explain eavesdropping on a professor's private conversation, but then she sharply noticed a problem.

How had Snape recognized her before the door had even opened, looking like this?

And was "catgirl" supposed to describe her?

Hermione dearly wished she had brought Harry's Invisibility Cloak. Then she could have hidden beneath it and avoided this suffocating situation. But as her thoughts ran wild, a strong, steady hand gripped her arm and helped her up. Trembling, Hermione looked up and found that it was the young wizard who had been speaking with Professor Snape.

"Th-thank you, Professor."

"Heh, don't misunderstand, Miss Granger. I'm not a professor at this school."

Amosta smiled gently. With interest, he examined the drooping ears amid the young witch's bushy hair, as well as the whiskers on her black-furred cheeks. It did not take him long to realize that this was probably the result of using Polyjuice Potion in an animal transformation.

As expected of the most important brains of the main cast. She certainly knew how to play.

Although he could not remember the plot of the Harry Potter books, that did not mean Amosta knew nothing about the key characters in them.

Snape's sarcastic remark had already told Amosta that the young witch before him, who had undergone a botched transformation, was the highly popular Hermione Granger from Harry Potter—a very intelligent and perceptive young witch. That made him a little curious.

"Miss Granger,"

Snape's faintly mocking voice sounded especially gloomy in the Hospital Wing late at night.

"Even I must admit that you are far more interesting to look at now than usual. However, I would still like to know why you look like this—and whether Minerva gave you the courage to eavesdrop on my conversation?"

He had not recognized this as a case of improperly used Polyjuice Potion? That was beneath your standards, Professor.

Snape understood the surprise in Amosta's gaze. He glared at Amosta, then turned his sinister eyes back to Hermione.

"Answer my question, Miss Granger. Or would you prefer Minerva to explain it for you?"

At those words, Hermione, already like a frightened bird, began to tremble. Things were bad enough already. If Professor McGonagall found out too, she simply would not be able to face Gryffindor House's already nearly empty hourglass.

"I look like this... because I overestimated my Transfiguration skills, Professor Snape."

Hermione lowered her head and stared fiercely at the tips of her shoes, her voice tinged with tears.

For one brief moment, she was thankful that her face was covered in black fur. Otherwise, she was certain her flushed cheeks would have exposed her lie.

"I studied Advanced Transfiguration ahead of time and thought I could cast the Human Transfiguration spell described in the book... I'm very sorry for eavesdropping on the conversation between you and this gentl— I mean, this sir.

"At the time, I was reading in bed, trying to figure out how to heal the magical injuries on my body more quickly. But the noise outside caught my attention. I thought it might be the Chamber of Secrets. You know, the attacks have made all us Muggle-born witches and wizards very nervous—"

Amosta noticed that Snape's face had turned ashen and his breathing was growing heavier. If he let the young witch keep making things up, a tragedy was very likely to occur in the Hospital Wing next.

"No need to explain, Miss Granger."

Golden Viper of the underground world was a cold, sharp, murderous and dangerous wizard who walked the line between black and white all year round. But Amosta Breen without his black robes was a very friendly and gentle person. It was difficult to say which side was his true self and which was a disguise. Perhaps both were the truest Amosta Breen.

Hermione, who had been doing her best to make her words believable, blankly raised her head. She saw a pair of beautiful violet eyes and a gentle smile on a young, handsome face. She was dazed for a moment. For an instant, Hermione felt that the young wizard's smile resembled Headmaster Dumbledore's somewhat.

Kind, tolerant, yet concealing the wisdom to see through the truth.

"I'm sorry, sir, everything I said was..."

"My name is Amosta Breen. You may call me Mr. Breen,"

Amosta interrupted Hermione's explanation once again and smiled pleasantly.

"Whatever reason caused you to end up looking like this, Miss Granger, I believe you have already learned a painful lesson. Therefore, Professor Snape will not punish you further, correct?"

Amosta looked toward Snape and received only a disdainful snort.

"As for eavesdropping on our conversation, that is not much of a serious offense for a young witch of thirteen or fourteen, an age full of curiosity. Professor Snape and I have both generously decided not to pursue the matter, so there is no need for you to worry too much~"

In terms of authority, Amosta clearly could not compare to Snape, whose imposing reputation had long been established. Although Mr. Breen said he would not pursue the eavesdropping, Hermione still did not dare relax. She watched Snape cautiously, afraid that her Potions Class professor would voice a different opinion.

Perhaps because of Amosta's plea, or perhaps because of Dumbledore's instructions, Snape turned and left without another word. Gryffindor House thus escaped the miserable fate of losing another fifty points during the Christmas holiday.

"Then, see you later, Miss Granger."

Amosta smiled faintly and turned to leave as well.

Hermione had not even had time to celebrate surviving the ordeal before she came to her senses and saw that the mysterious man calling himself Breen was already about to step out of the Hospital Wing.

"Please wait, sir... I mean, Mr. Breen!"

Hermione called out instinctively. Only when Amosta turned back with a surprised expression did she realize what she had done.

"Mr. Breen, are you a healer?"

Hermione's face reddened. She did not know why she had stopped Breen, but at the critical moment, her quick mind saved her once again.

"I heard you and Professor Snape discussing Colin and Justin's conditions. Do... do you have the ability to cure them?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but I do not."

Amosta shook his head and spoke calmly.

"Since Headmaster Dumbledore already has a way to cure them, I do not think you need to be anxious. After all, lying in hospital beds is also a form of protection for them."

Amosta turned and left again, his voice continuing to reach Hermione through the door.

"Also, Miss Granger, I am an Investigator."

That night, Amosta made do in Snape's Staff Dormitory. The two talked by candlelight deep into the night, and he asked Snape in detail about the scenes of the three attacks and how the victims had been discovered.

Of those, the first witnesses after Mrs. Norris and Filius Flitwick were attacked had both been Harry Potter.

Amosta was not surprised by that. The protagonist, after all—even if he stayed home and never went out, trouble would come looking for him on its own.

What surprised him was the caustic expression on Snape's face when he evaluated Harry Potter.

"You can tell what sort of person he is just by looking at Hermione Granger—full of lies, mediocre, arrogant, obsessed with breaking rules, fond of showing off and attracting attention, reckless and rude!"

Several feet away, Amosta, who had been bent over the desk writing and sketching, looked up in surprise.

"How unusual, Professor. Wizards who receive such an evaluation from you are even rarer than those who receive your praise. I'm starting to get a little curious about that boy."

"You'll understand once you meet him, Amosta."

Snape reclined halfway on his bed, staring at the roaring flames in the fireplace as he said coldly, "His self-important style, believing he can handle everything, is practically molded from the same cast as his father's!"

"Ah—"

Amosta turned a page in the battered A Simplified Theory of Ancient Curses by Ulysses Gamp before him, then continued writing equations on the parchment. From time to time, he waved his wand, sending ripples through the air as he attempted to construct an effective spell model.

For more than two years, he had spent most of his time wandering from place to place. The time he had for research and self-improvement had all been squeezed out wherever he could find it.

"I see. So it's a grudge from the previous generation."

Amosta did not press Snape further about what conflict he had with Potter's father. He knew clearly that everyone had memories they did not want others to touch. Why force open wounds that others had struggled to heal just to satisfy his own insignificant curiosity?

PS: New books aren't easy—please give it your support!